


Sensations

by indigorose50



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Background Relationships, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Polyamory, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: Ingrid finds she has a lot in common with the Blue Lion's newest recruit, Caspar.Caspar gives a combat lesson to Sylvain.Sylvain realizes he has more feelings than he bargained for-- and he's not alone.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Caspar von Bergliez/Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Caspar von Bergliez/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 15





	1. We're Breaking All Conventions

**Author's Note:**

> Moeblob and I were talking MONTHS ago about these three and I wrote about half of this fic right after. Then I got stuck. Then I kept going. Got stuck again. And now we're here! At last! 
> 
> Mostly written to try out writing OT3s in longer form fics. Happy to say I'm pleased with how this came out! I know it's a rare rarepair, but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (story and chapter titles are all from the song [PaⅢ.SENSATION](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4Z9LKqmryA) , specifically the English cover by rachie × Kuraiinu × Anthong, which helped me plot this)

A few weeks after Caspar joined the Blue Lions, Professor Byleth took them out to fight a gang of bandits. The battle was a great way for the Lions to get used to fighting alongside Caspar and vice versa— that was how the Professor had explained it, anyway. Although Ingrid agreed with Dimitri that they should be focusing on the so-called plot to kill Lady Rhea at the end of the month.

After their fight, the Professor thumped a large bag of gold on a table in the tavern they were staying in, told them all to treat themselves to a good meal, and slumped off to bed. Dimitri had tried to ask what was wrong, but the Professor just muttered something about “using too many Pulses, oh my poor head” and retreated upstairs to their room.

It only took a few hours for the rest of the Lions to follow suit. Caspar and Ingrid alone persisted. They remained at the bar with plates full of food and the bag of gold barely half gone. 

“Oh man, you  _ gotta _ try this!” Caspar said, spearing a piece of meat with his fork and holding it up to Ingrid. 

She didn’t think twice about leaning over to take a bite. She let out a satisfied hum. “It melts in your mouth!”

“I know right?!”

“Ah! Try it with some of this sauce.” Ingrid held up her plate where some reddish brown liquid was pooled. 

Caspar dunked another piece of meat in the sauce and popped the whole thing in his mouth. “Aw yeah, good idea!” He dug in the bag for another handful of coins. “Hey, barkeep! Whatever that sauce is we need more of it down here!”

The look the barkeeper gave them made Ingrid laugh. Obviously he had never seen two people eat so much at once. It was hard to feel like a glutton when Caspar was matching her plate for plate. With a hurried nod, the man took the gold from Caspar and ducked into the kitchen. She heard the cook give a noise of astonishment. 

“Y’know, Ingrid, this is more fun than I thought it would be,” Caspar said, tipping his plate to give her some more of the meat. “On the battlefield today, you were yelling at Sylvain and the others so much I thought you would be a total stick in the mud.”

“Is that so?” Ingrid mixed the meat and the sauce on her plate together. “The only reason I was yelling at them was because they kept trying to take hits for me or engaging with someone I was heading for. I can take care of myself.”

“After watching you today I believe it.” Caspar snagged a piece of sauce-covered meat. “It was pretty cool of Sylvain to take that arrow for you though. I remember the Professor telling us in class how bad those are for Pegasus knights.”

Ingrid lowered her fork, remembering the moment Caspar was talking about. “They’re right. I suppose what Sylvain did was okay…” She shook away the memory of blood gushing from Sylvain’s shoulder. “Still! If I’m going to be a knight, I need all the practice I can get. And if the others keep babying me, I will not get it.”

“I understand,” Caspar said with a nod. “I gotta get strong if I’m ever gonna make myself useful in life.”

Just then the barkeep came out of the kitchen with a bowl filled to the brim with their sauce. He placed it between them and retreated to a group of men down the bar who were loudly demanding more drink.

Ingrid dunked one of her vegetables in the bowl. “You know, you are not quite what I expected either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, in my experience, second sons are more interested in asking for my hand in marriage than fighting alongside me.”

Caspar’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Oh. Uh, that never actually occurred to me.” His face went red. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with you! I’m sure any guy’d be lucky to have you by his side! It just— it’s not—”

Ingrid laughed and pat him on the shoulder. “It’s okay! In truth, I prefer this.” She gestured to the piles of empty plates around them. “It’s interesting to me that you talk about being strong in order to have a future. Have you never considered marrying into another house, if only to strengthen your own?”

“I’ve never really thought about trying to make House Bergliez stronger,” Caspar said quietly. He knocked some chickpeas around his plate absently, elbow on the table and cheek in his hand. Ingrid held back the urge to tell him to sit up straight. Now wasn’t the time. “It seems steady enough to me. I just want to be as strong as I can to help people.” He frowned. “Is that selfish of me? That I haven’t even thought of how to help my family?”

Ingrid pat his shoulder again and this time left her hand there. “I think, since you have the luxury of not having to worry about your family’s wealth or lands, that you should do as you please. Some of us are not so lucky.”

Caspar looked over at her. “Ah geez, Ingrid I’m sorry. I forgot about your territory’s struggles.”

“It’s fine. We—” It was Ingrid’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “You know? About my family’s land?”

“That it’s hard to grow stuff and people don’t have a lot of food? Yeah.”

“W-Why do  _ you _ know that?!”

“My father’s the Minister of Military Affairs in the Empire,” Caspar answered, like that should explain everything. “I grew up hearing him talk about all the major noble families and their territories.”

“He keeps track of things like that?”

“Yeah. Says you never know when you’ll have to fight on someone else’s land someday. Being familiar with the area is always a helpful advantage.” Caspar cocked his head innocently. “Should I not know that?”

“I…” Ingrid shook her head. “Just don’t go around telling everyone. My family’s situation is not a secret but I would prefer as few people know as possible.”

Caspar grinned. “Alright. If anyone else finds out, it won’t be from me!”

His casual yet genuine promise made Ingrid relax. Something about Caspar was reassuring. Maybe it was the easy way he got along with the others in class, or the way he threw himself into every fight with a big grin. Ingrid stuck her hand into the coin bag. “Barkeep!” She called. The man looked up, fearful. “More of that teppanyaki, if you please!”

Both Ingrid and Caspar laughed as the barkeeper all but reared backward. Caspar wrapped an arm around her shoulders as the man took the coins. “Ingrid, I think we’re gonna get along  _ just _ fine.”

Something in Ingrid’s chest fluttered. Not her heart, surely. Perhaps her stomach. After this dish she should call it a night. 

For now, Ingrid was enjoying the company, the food, and the conversation. Who knew Caspar von Bergliez would be such a joy to have around?


	2. Hey can you feel the tension?

If the Battle of the Eagle and Lion proved anything, it was that the Blue Lions were very much in need of someone who didn’t use a damn lance. Ferdinand had joined their house a few weeks before the battle and Caspar had been tempted to get on bended knee and ask the Professor to recruit  _ literally _ any other kind of fighter. Maybe it was just Caspar’s personal opinion but everyone really needed to learn to hit with their own freaking fists. Punching just felt so much better than poking someone with a sharp stick.

Fortunately, Sylvain had come to the same conclusion and asked Caspar for brawling tips. This saved Caspar from having to beg  _ all _ of the Lions to see sense. 

“Look, I’ll admit you can land a hit,” Caspar said about an hour into their practice. “You’re taller and you’ve got longer arms. I  _ get _ it.”

Sylvain grinned and flexed one arm proudly.

“But your punches are really weak.”

The grin fell. “What?!”

“You can get to me but once you do, there’s no force behind it.” Caspar shifted into a standard fighting stance. “Try pulling your arm back more. And hit where it hurts, not just wherever you can reach.”

Sylvain glared, folding his arms across his bare chest. “Is this why you keep going for my knees?”

“Nah, that’s a trick from Linhardt.” Caspar threw out a few demonstrative jabs. “Also, you keep jumping away after you attack. Try a few punches one after the other. It’s not like with a lance where you’re trying to keep your distance. Control the fight as much as you can.”

Caspar should probably find it strange that Sylvain was being so serious. It was more common to find Sylvain teasing his friends or flirting with a girl in town. But the Sylvain in Caspar’s mind was always the Sylvain he had seen in that first battle. Taking an arrow to the shoulder that was heading for Ingrid. Nearly falling off his horse trying to take out an enemy headed for Dedue’s back. That version of Sylvain had been reinforced during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, where Sylvain had grabbed Caspar by the back of his armor and forced him in Dimitri’s direction, calling that he needed to assist their house leader’s battalion. 

Next to  _ that _ Sylvain, the joking red haired boy in class seemed like the strange one.

Sylvain’s chuckle brought Caspar out of his thoughts. “You still in there?” 

Caspar put up his fist with a grin. “You bet.”

They kept at it for a good while. Sometimes Caspar would let Sylvain land a few hits just to get a feel for it— and other times Caspar effortlessly knocked Sylvain on his ass because he had left himself open too long.

It always felt good to work up a sweat after a long day of classes. Professor Byleth was a great teacher, and Caspar had no regrets about switching to their House, but sitting inside for hours was just not in Caspar’s skill set. 

Sylvain made a great brawling student; he asked questions, listened to criticism, and, most importantly, he let Caspar hit him. Even if Sylvain didn’t make brawling his main weapon, Caspar was confident it would be a decent backup if he found himself without a lance. 

This confidence was emphasized when Sylvain was finally able to pin Caspar to the ground. Caspar lay there for a moment, breathing heavy, staring up at Sylvain with wide eyes. Sylvain, who had an arm against Caspar’s throat and a leg over Caspar’s knees, seemed just as surprised. Sweat trickled down Sylvain’s chin as he too gasped for breath. It hit Caspar’s neck and he had to suppress a shiver. Which Sylvain was this? Would he crack a joke and try to cover up his success, just like in class? Or would he demand to go another round just to make sure he was actually improving and hadn’t just gotten lucky?

As they stayed on the ground, with labored breath mingling between them and warm skin pressed together, Caspar wondered, out of nowhere, if there was a third kind of potential reaction he was missing.

Suddenly, Sylvain grinned. “Going easy on me?”

Caspar blinked before he reached up and pushed Sylvain’s face away. “That wouldn’t teach you anything!” He laughed as he sat up, watching Sylvain beam with pride even though he sported a black eye and split lip. “Nice one. Wanna go another round?”

Sylvain’s good mood faded as he looked around. “It’s getting dark. We should call it a day.”

It was indeed sundown. Members of the Church would be by to light the torches in the training grounds soon. There was also curfew, come to think about. Caspar pouted. He’d had fun playing teacher for once.

A hand appeared in Caspar’s face. “Thanks for this,” Sylvain said as he helped Caspar to his feet. “Forgot how fun it was to learn new techniques. You’re a lot more patient than Felix. If you ever need to learn swordsmanship he’s your guy, but he won’t make it enjoyable.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Though Caspar seriously doubted he would ever want to learn something as frilly as the sword. Felix made it look cool but it just went to show that the Lions really liked things pointy. Besides, Felix seemed more interested in getting Ferdinand into the training grounds recently. Caspar let go of Sylvain and rolled both shoulders. “Just be careful about pinning people on the battlefield. Exposes your back.”

Sylvain nodded. “Seriously, thank you for your help. Is there anything I can teach you in return? You made your thoughts on lances pretty clear so…” He hummed and put a hand to his chin. 

Caspar left him to it, crossing to a bench and sitting down. Everything ached in that satisfying way it did after a good work out. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and tried to come up with something Sylvain had on him apart from height. 

He jumped when Sylvain snapped his fingers. “Aha! How about I give you girl advice?”

“Girl advice?” Caspar repeated with a snort. He took off his boot to tilt some sand out. “No offense Sylvain but since I joined your class I’ve seen you get slapped by eight girls.”

“But they all talked to me, right? I can help you talk to girls.”

“I talk to girls all the time. Flayn, Ingrid, Annette—”

Sylvain waved his hands to stop Caspar. “I mean girls  _ outside _ our class.” 

“Dorothea still talks to me. Even Edelgard is nice, but I think she’s still mad at me for leaving.”

“I mean like  _ romancing _ girls, Caspar!” 

“Oh… Oh!” Caspar put the boot down. “Oh.”

There was a pause.

“Unless,” Sylvain said slowly, “you’re not into girls.”

Well this lesson wasn’t ending the way Caspar had thought it would at all. He looked stubbornly away from Sylvain, focusing instead on pulling off his other boot. It wasn’t that he had never thought about romance. It was just that— this was a place where he could learn to fight! The few times ideas like that had entered his mind, they hadn’t seemed as important as learning battle techniques or arm wrestling people during breaks. Being into girls or not wasn’t what was stumping him.

And Caspar definitely didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Not after the weird things he had been thinking when Sylvain had pinned him down.

Before he could come up with a response, Sylvain grinned reassuringly. “Which is completely fine, by the way. You just have to tell me. I can help get guys to talk to you too.”

Caspar felt his eyes go wide. “Really?  _ You _ ?”

Sylvain scowled. “Okay now I  _ am _ starting to get offended.” 

“Sorry! I just— ugh, can’t you think of some other way to repay me?” Caspar slipped his boots back on and stood to retrieve their clothes. “Talking in general isn’t my strong suit.”

“All the more reason to help you, then,” Sylvain pointed out.

Caspar held up a shirt before tossing it to Sylvain. “That one’s yours. Look, you can help me by using what I taught you to keep making sure everyone stays safe when we go out to kill bad guys.”

Catching the shirt with ease, Sylvain stared at Caspar rather than putting it on right away. Caspar kind of wished he  _ would _ put it on. It made him feel self conscious, which was rare. “I think you’re mistaking me for the Professor.  _ They _ keep people safe,” Sylvain finally said. 

“No, I see you do it too. Like when we were protecting the tomb during the Blue Sea moon? Ashe ran ahead to unlock a chest and you threw a javelin to make him trip so a fireball would miss him.” 

Sylvain let out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “He tripped by accident, remember? It was lucky he did. I was supposed to hit the mage but missed spectacularly. ”

Caspar buttoned up his vest and cocked his head. “There’s no way you could have hit that mage. They were too far away. You  _ made _ Ashe trip. I saw.”

“That would have been clever.” Sylvain pulled on his shirt, eyes away from Caspar in a way that looked deliberate.

“It  _ was _ ,” Caspar insisted.

Sylvain looked up at him— and it was the Sylvain from the battlefield. The Sylvain who had pulled Caspar aside after class that afternoon and asked to be taught fist fighting, quietly, as if no one should know he was trying to improve himself. Caspar found himself stepping closer, offering up Sylvain’s jacket. Sylvain took it, his fingers lingering on the back of Caspar’s hand. “You know,” Sylvain said with a half smile, “you’re not as bad at talking to people as you think.”

“Oh? Uh.” Caspar let go and his gaze drifted to his feet. “Thanks?”

A meow from nearby made them both jump.

They turned to see a tabby cat slink out from behind a pillar. She looked at Caspar and meowed again. He grinned. “Hey you!” Caspar knelt down and she ran right up to get scratched behind her ear.

Chuckling, Sylvain knelt as well. “Friend of yours?”

“You bet! This little Miss stalks me after I train. She knows I like to eat right after and follows me for snacks. The Professor said if we give treats to the animals here they can sometimes give us cool stuff but I’ve never gotten anything.” 

The cat rolled onto her back and let him pet her stomach. After a few seconds of that, she nipped at his hand. Caspar laughed. “She’s a little impatient.” 

He sat cross legged on the ground and let her climb into his lap. She nuzzled his chin, her long fur tickling his nose and making him giggle. He kissed the top of her head before petting with both hands. “Do you wanna come too, Sylvain? Ingrid and I found a great combination of fruit and spices the other night that tastes amazing. It didn’t go so great with the dried meat but  _ this _ one here liked that part best. I can show you if you like! Unless you’re like Raphael and don’t like fruit after training. In that case we can try—” 

When Caspar looked up from the cat, it was to find Sylvain watching him. He had sat down too, cheek in hand, a small smile on his face. It felt different from being stared at as he instructed Sylvain on punching. Caspar cleared his throat. “Sylvain?”

“Hm?” Sylvain blinked a few times, the smile falling for a moment. Then it was back, though a bit bigger than before. More… on purpose. “Food! Yeah, good idea. It’s never good to keep a lady waiting.” He pet the cat and stood up. “Fruit sounds good to me.”

“Great!” Caspar got to his feet and led the way towards the doors. The cat followed them eagerly.

As they left, a group of girls in Golden Deer colors passed. Sylvain winked at one and offered her a wave. She waved back, causing the girls around her to giggle. Caspar found himself frowning. Why were there two different Sylvains? And why did it bother Caspar that he saw less of the one he liked?


	3. Coming back to you like an addiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-skip reunions are such an easy source of Drama and I love it.

Sunrise wasn’t far off. Sylvain, exhausted but more optimistic than he’d been in years, leaned against the railing. The third floor of the monastery had been off limits his whole school year— and even now, with Garreg Mach in ruins around him, Sylvain felt like he was trespassing on Rhea’s balcony. He stared out at the brightening sky. Traveling all day to get here, fighting the bandits tonight, reuniting with the Professor and most of the Blue Lions, discovering Dimitri— Sylvain should probably be getting some sleep. Who knew what awaited them tomorrow? Maybe more people would rise from the dead.

But instead of dragging his stiff legs to his old dorm room, Sylvain stared off into the horizon. It was only when he heard footsteps that he turned around.

Ingrid looked every inch a knight of Faerghus. From her cropped blonde hair to her blood splattered armor, she was both exactly how Sylvain remembered her, and a war-hardened warrior. Watching her swoop in on a bedraggled pegasus with Lúin burning in her hand had been a reminder of just how much these five years had changed them all.

And seeing her now, predawn light uncovering her wide sea green eyes, which were trained on Sylvain, reminded him just how much he had missed her.

Without speaking, Ingrid closed the distance between them and pulled him down for a kiss. Sylvain caught her around the waist, opening his mouth to her unprompted. 

It was far from the kisses they had exchanged during the last month of school. Those had been desperate, stolen before they retreated to their rooms for the night. Tense as they waited for the Empire to arrive at their door. Those kisses had been “please stay safe”, “don’t leave me behind” — solid reassurances that they wouldn’t see tomorrow alone. 

This kiss, Sylvain realized as he cupped the back of her head and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, was more “you’re allowed to hope again”. 

The world outside the balcony didn’t exist until rapid footsteps sounded down the hallway. Ingrid and Sylvain drew apart but didn’t move far, elbows still brushing. Sylvain held his breath and half expected another ghost.

It was Caspar. Travel-worn, whole and healthy,  _ taller _ Caspar.

They all stared at each other. Then Caspar grinned— and all of a sudden he was the same kid who had taught Sylvain just enough brawling to understand how to do Healing Focus. The same kid who used to interrupt Ingrid’s lectures by picking her up and promising her a treat from the nearest tavern, carrying her off to the tune of her laughing and scolding him by turns.

But this was also a Caspar who had a long scar on his neck peeking out his armor. Caspar who had a chipped axe strapped to his back. Caspar with a single vulnerary hanging from his belt. 

The grin, however, was Caspar in all his forms. He  _ whooped _ and ran at Sylvain and Ingrid, grabbing them both in one big hug. “You guys are okay! I knew you would be! You  _ had _ to be!” 

Ingrid wormed out an arm so she could hug him back, laughing when they all nearly fell over. “Glad to see you made it, Caspar.”

A smile found its way onto Sylvain’s face. He hadn’t forced it there and it wasn’t aimed at anyone in particular. He too found a way to hug Caspar around the shoulders, propping his chin on Caspar’s short hair, pure relief flooding through him. “You’re late,” Sylvain managed.

“Yeah, I heard. Professor said I missed a good fight.”

“You would’ve loved it,” Ingrid said, resting her head on Caspar’s other shoulder. “This guy was hoarding goods, and he used a body double to try and escape. I am sure you would have wanted a crack at him.” She sniffed. Sylvain could feel her shaking. “You’re too tall.”

Caspar laughed again, though it sounded a bit thick. Sylvain brought up his hand to stroke the back of Caspar’s head. Not dissimilar to what he had been doing to Ingrid moments ago. “About time, right?” Caspar mumbled. With a final squeeze, Caspar let them go and looked back and forth between Sylvain and Ingrid, the grin never fading. His eyes were overbright as he reached up to tug lightly at Ingrid’s hair. “I see you did some cutting back.”

Blushing, Ingrid swat away his hand. “It was more convenient.” 

“Nah, I get it,” Caspar said with another laugh, tapping the shaved side of his head. “Professor hasn’t changed at all though, did you notice?”

“Hard not to,” Sylvain agreed. “And they fight just the same as well.”

“Alright! I’ll have to get in line behind Felix to have a match with…” Caspar trailed off, his face falling like he just remembered a paper due tomorrow that he hadn’t started yet. “Felix!” 

His outburst had Ingrid and Sylvain on edge immediately. “What’s—”

Caspar put a hand to his forehead. “He and his men are patrolling the front gates! They saw the Knights of Serios heading this way! I’m supposed to tell everyone!” He cursed and backed away. “The Professor told me to tell everyone I found to meet downstairs. I only told Annette but when she said you two were up here I got distracted. I should— I should go!” 

Despite that, Caspar didn’t move. He fixed wide eyes on Ingrid and Sylvain again. Perhaps Sylvain was projecting but he almost looked apologetic. Stepping forward, Sylvain clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We aren’t going anywhere, Caspar. Go ahead. We’ll talk later.”

Ingrid stepped up too, smiling gently. “Spread the word. We will see you downstairs, okay?”

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Caspar instantly relaxed. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll go.” He turned away, then spun back around and hugged them both again. This time Sylvain’s feet actually left the ground for a moment. “It’s  _ really _ great to see you’re both alive.” 

Casper set them down just as quick, then ran out the door and down the hall. They could hear him practically jumping down the stairs until even the sound of his clanking greaves faded. 

The balcony now seemed too quiet. Sylvain let out a sigh. He had forgotten how much Caspar could fill a room. Beside him, Ingrid took his hand lightly in hers. 

“I danced with him at the ball,” she said abruptly. “Five years ago today.”

Sylvain didn’t look at her. “I know. I watched. I almost asked him too.” He added when she remained silent.

“You should have. He’s a surprisingly good dancer.”

“That’s actually not as surprising as it should be,” Sylvain said, remembering how Caspar had moved during their training. 

He recalled their first lesson— he had been able to pin Caspar, and Caspar had just lay there, panting and looking up at Sylvain, waiting for him to make the next move. 

Only Sylvain  _ hadn’t _ known the next move. And he continued to not know, it felt like.

Ingrid was quiet again so Sylvain looked down at her. She was staring at him, head tilted and mouth set like she was literally chewing over a question. Then her lips quirked up in a smirk. “You too, huh?”

Sylvain’s mouth went dry. A day ago he had woken in a cold sweat and scrambled to remember the date. Less than five minutes ago he had been making out with Ingrid. And now she was asking him… what was she asking exactly?

Ingrid squeezed his hand. “It’s okay.”

He squeezed her hand back, feeling like he had just set down a heavy burden he didn’t know he was carrying. “You too?”

“Yes. Me too.”


	4. Give me all of your attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my ongoing quest to make give everyone in this school A Freaking Nap.

“I cannot believe you, Caspar!”

“What?! You saw the infirmary! They don’t need me taking up a bed, Ingrid. That should go to someone who needs it.”

“You  _ do _ need it! You can’t even walk!”

“Sure I can! I just—  _ ow! _ — I just need you, that’s all.”

Normally such a phrase from Caspar would make Ingrid’s heart skip a beat. But now wasn’t the time. Currently she had one arm around his waist, with his arm thrown around her shoulders, struggling up to the second floor dorms. Luckily they were both out of their heavy armor. The only obstacle to contend with was Caspar’s ankle. 

At the top of the stairs, they stopped to take a breather. It had been a long day to begin with and these last few hours trying to help Caspar look after himself had seemed longer than any other part of the day— up to and including the battle that had caused this in the first place. Outside, the moon had long since risen. Inside, the dorm was quiet, the few occupants still staying up here having retired hours ago. 

“Hey!” Ingrid looked up to find Sylvain coming down the hall. His smile slipped gradually as he took in Ingrid gasping for breath and Caspar leaning against the wall for support. “Don’t tell me you guys have been training. Was the battle this morning not enough for you?” He sent Ingrid a mock glare. “That’s more Felix and Caspar territory. I expect better from you, young lady.”

It was hard to hold in a giggle at that. “Don’t bring up age,  _ old man _ . You won’t like where this goes.”

A groan from Caspar cut off Sylvain’s retort. He obviously had tried to put pressure on that ankle and paid the price. Sylvain was by him in an instant, pulling Caspar back from the wall so he leaned on Sylvain instead. “You know we have a place for people who are hurt, right?” He asked with his usually carefree smirk.

Caspar glared up at him. “They’re full from the battle today. I don’t need any special care. Just gotta sleep this off.”

Sylvain looked down at his leg. “Yeah, no, that doesn’t get healed from sleep.”

“Manuela used a Heal and sent us out with a tonic once Caspar volunteered to leave,” Ingrid explained. “He took the tonic but it needs time to work.”

“How did you even do this?” Sylvain began helping Caspar down the corridor. Ingrid was glad for the break. Strong as she was, Caspar was half dead weight.

“Dodged an attack wrong and landed badly. But it made for a good distraction! Ignatz and Bernadetta were able to get away while the knight aimed at me!” Caspar grinned proudly. Unconsciously, Ingrid copied him. Caspar grins were catchy things. “It’s a shame you weren’t there, Sylvain. I was  _ awesome _ ! Up until that point, I mean.”

“I asked the Professor to come. They just said something about going back too many times trying to keep me alive. I really think we need to make them rest more often— sometimes they just don’t make sense.” 

“Agreed,” Ingrid and Caspar chorused. 

They made it up the first set of steps and passed Hilda’s old room. When they passed Caspar’s, Ingrid slowed down. “Uh, Sylvain? This one.”

“I’m aware.” He ruffled Caspar’s hair with his free hand. “This guy needs extra care. My bedroom’s not that much further anyway.”

Sylvain’s current bedroom was actually Claude’s old room and had been for a few months now. If anyone asked, Sylvain would say he had been eyeing Claude’s oversized bed for a while; he’d even brought in his old bed to combine them into a monstrosity that took up half the room. But privately he had told Ingrid he couldn’t stand walking by Dimitri’s bedroom anymore. Even though Dimitri more or less stayed in the cathedral, it was too strong a reminder of the prince they had lost. 

Eventually they got Caspar into Sylvain’s room and sat him on the bed. He scowled down at his foot as if debating how much trouble it would be to just cut the thing off. Chuckling at the expression, Ingrid knelt before him. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” Caspar said. His cheeks were tinted slightly and he wasn’t looking at either of them. An embarrassed Caspar was rare. “I can manage on my own.”

Sylvain sat next to him. “But you don’t have to. Let someone else spoil you for once.” 

Ingrid made to take off Caspar’s boot but he yelped in pain and nearly kicked her in the chin. “Sorry! Sorry, Ingrid. Just help me back to my room and I can—”

“Sylvain, can you hold him steady while I do this?” Ingrid asked, talking over Caspar. Careful not to jostle Caspar too much, Sylvain climbed over and sat so Caspar was between his legs and leaning back against Sylvain’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Caspar’s middle and rested his chin on Caspar’s shoulder. 

Caspar, for his part, had gone very still indeed.

Ingrid shared a grin with Sylvain before turning her attention back to Caspar’s ankle. “That tonic should have dulled some of the pain by now. Why are you still so sensitive?”

“Well—” Caspar’s voice came out a little higher than normal and he cleared his throat. Over his shoulder, Ingrid saw Sylvain bite his lip to keep from laughing. “I used lots of tonics and concoctions over the years to keep going so, uh, maybe it’s just not as effective with me?” 

Ingrid frowned. “That is… less than ideal.”

“I can sleep with my boots on?”

“Also not ideal. You deserve to be comfortable.” 

“She’s right.” Hearing Sylvain’s voice so close to his ear made Caspar tense up again. “Speaking of those five years, didn’t you say you teamed up with this one girl for a while to help out a village? Been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Oh,  _ that _ was a good time! I helped her break into the local jail to bust out her brother and sister. We made a great team! She even let me stay at her place for a whole week.”

“A week, huh? Sounds serious.”

Ingrid knew exactly what Sylvain was doing. Hoping Caspar was distracted enough, she pulled at the laces of the boot on his uninjured foot. As they spoke, she tugged it off, wrinkling her nose at the musty boot smell that emerged. 

“Serious? What do you mean?”

“Come on, Caspar, you mean to tell me that nothing happened while you stayed with a girl for a week?”

“N-No! Nothing happened! Sure we fought alongside each other most days and I trusted her not to get me killed but—”

“You two were that close for that long and you never thought of her that way? I had no idea you could be such a gentleman.”

Ingrid moved on to the other boot and slowly undid the knot. The conversation was meant to hold Caspar’s attention but Ingrid found herself listening intently. 

“It’s not that,” Caspar went on. “I just, I didn’t see her that way. I don’t… think of people that way very often. And definitely not that quickly. It takes me a while to warm up to someone and start feeling…  _ things _ .”

“Sounds like you know yourself pretty well. So…?” Sylvain sounded amused. “Who have you crushed on? Who have you spent enough time with? Come on, you can tell us.”

“It doesn’t matter. None of them would have felt the same anyway.”

“ _ More _ than one crush? I’m so proud of you.”

“S-Shut up!”

“Maybe if you had taken my offer to teach you how to talk to girls and/or guys, things would be different.”

Ingrid slid the boot off. Caspar sucked in air through his nose but settled quickly. It was then she noticed Sylvain had taken Caspar’s left hand, letting him squeeze it when needed. 

“Maybe you would have gotten your first kiss by now, for one thing,” Sylvain added as Ingrid removed the sock as well.

“What makes you think I haven’t?! People like strong guys like me! I could have gotten kissed lots of times over the years!” 

“Have you?”

“... No,” Caspar admitted with reluctance. “But who cares, right?”

Ingrid spoke without giving herself much time to think. “Would you like a first kiss now?”

Sylvain and Caspar both stared down at Ingrid. She felt her cheeks grow pink. Caspar’s eyes were wide, which was much better than seeing them scrunched in pain. Behind him, Sylvain, still with his chin on Caspar’s shoulder, raised his eyebrows. 

No one spoke for a moment. Ingrid rose from her spot on the floor and put a hand on Caspar’s cheek. She bent her head, moving slowly and watching for any sign that he didn’t like this. On the contrary, his gaze kept flickering between her eyes and her lips. For a moment he reminded her of that boy who had gotten flustered thinking he had offended Ingrid by not trying to marry her. 

Ingrid brought up her other hand, pulled Caspar forward ever so slightly, and pressed her lips firmly to his.

Something like a jolt shot through her at the contact. She had daydreamed about this once, before the Empire had ripped such thoughts from her head. Caspar, ever surprising, had soft lips. His eyes slipped shut and he brought up his free hand to hesitantly touch her neck.

After a few moments, Ingrid pulled away from the chaste kiss. Caspar still had his eyes closed, mouth slightly open, still resting one hand on Ingrid’s neck while Sylvain held the other.

Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. 

Then Caspar yawned.

Sylvain snorted and hid his face in Caspar’s shoulder. Ingrid bit back a laugh. Caspar blinked sluggishly. 

“Manuela did warn the tonic had a side effect,” Ingrid reminded Caspar. “Guess you didn’t build an immunity to  _ that _ .”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He leaned up to peck her on the lips again. Yet another surprise. “You’re a good kisser, don’t worry.”

Her face felt warm again. “You can hardly judge from that.”

“You  _ are _ a good kisser though,” Sylvain said, speaking for the first time in what felt like a lifetime now. His voice was light but his face was set as he looked at Ingrid. “Maybe Caspar will let you show off another time.”

If Caspar understood the implication of that comment he didn’t show it. Nodding absently, he relaxed back into Sylvain and rubbed his eyes. “I should get back to my room.”

“No,” Ingrid and Sylvain stated firmly.

Before Caspar could protest, Sylvain lay down on the too-large bed, pulling Caspar with him and holding the shorter man to his chest. Caspar didn’t disagree after that. Ingrid giggled as he grumbled something about being lucky it wasn’t too hot for this. 

Sylvain smirked and cut his gaze to Ingrid. She raised an eyebrow. He nodded in return. That settled, Ingrid climbed up to lay facing Caspar. Clear blue eyes opened as she got comfortable beside him. “Is this okay?” Ingrid asked, lightly entangling their fingers.

Caspar stared for a few beats before saying quietly, “You remember those crushes I talked about before?”

Ingrid couldn’t recall the last time she had heard Caspar speak so softly. “Yes?” She whispered back.

It seemed to be Caspar’s turn to blush. “This is fine.”

Smirking, Sylvain pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “You sure?”

“Very.” Caspar yawned again, closing his eyes. “Night.” 

Ingrid, unable to hold back, kissed the bridge of his nose. “Good night.”

Sylvain reached an arm over to snuff out the candle beside his bed. In the darkness, his right hand found her left. “Sleep well,” he whispered, squeezing. 

Though he couldn’t see it, she smiled. Soon the sound of Caspar’s even breathing, coupled with her own weariness from the day, soothed Ingrid to sleep.


	5. Falling deeper for you, maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some conversations~ No I am not projecting onto Caspar at all.

It wasn’t that Caspar was comfortable— far from it, actually. His right arm was numb from being trapped under him all night and someone’s knee was digging into his thigh.

No, what kept Caspar from opening his eyes was that he was  _ safe _ . Ingrid’s head was nestled between his shoulder blades and Sylvain’s left arm acted as Caspar’s pillow. These were definitely not the positions they had fallen asleep in last night. Caspar forced down the embarrassment that crept up his spine at the idea of doing his usually tossing and turning between them. Hopefully they had slept well. They deserved to sleep well.

Caspar opened his eyes. Sylvain was laying on his back, face peaceful with sleep. Ingrid’s breathing was even. Caspar smiled. All the Blue Lions had been accepting of Caspar when he was recruited, kind and welcoming and so much fun to learn with— but Sylvain and Ingrid were his favorite Lions. It had taken nearly losing them in the battle of Garreg Mach five years ago for Caspar to realize just why that was.

A sharp intake of breath took Caspar out of his head. Sylvain blinked awake, reaching up his free hand to rub his eyes. 

He turned and saw Caspar watching. A small smile lit Sylvain’s face as he turned towards Caspar. “Morning,” he whispered.

“Morning,” Caspar said back, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at Sylvain’s morning breath. 

The smile fell slightly and Caspar wondered just which Sylvain he was looking at. Whichever it was shifted closer. Caspar closed his eyes and met him halfway, all but crashing their lips together.

It was wildly different from his kiss with Ingrid. Caspar’s mouth, still slack from sleep, opened without his conscious thought and Sylvain responded in kind. His mouth moved over Caspar’s, teeth grazing his bottom lip, likely due to the angle they were at. Caspar wished he had the courage to open his eyes but he really  _ really _ wanted to be good at this. He had to concentrate. Sylvain had probably kissed dozens of people, including Ingrid still heavy against Caspar’s back— this had to be good. He  _ wanted _ to be good.

Sylvain was the one to pull away. When Caspar forced his eyes open, he found a blushing, slightly out of breath Sylvain across from him. He was staring at Caspar as if he had never seen him before.

“H-How was that?” Caspar asked. He mentally cursed himself. What a stupid teenage question to ask.

A roguish grin took over Sylvain’s face. “Don’t worry. We can practice.” Caspar groaned and mushed his face into the pillow. Sylvain laughed and ruffled Caspar’s hair. “What’s that for! You love practicing!”

“Sparing is different.”

A kiss to the cheek brightened Caspar’s mood a fair bit. “I’m just glad I had my turn finally.”

Caspar peeked out at him. “Your turn?”

“Kissing you.”

Even if Caspar had known what to stay to that it wouldn’t have mattered. Ingrid chose that moment to stir. She grumbled for a moment before sitting up and stretching. Caspar rolled onto his back and watched her glance out the window. The ribbons in her hair were tangled up but other than that her bed head wasn’t so bad. Sylvain’s, on the other hand, was sticking up in all directions. “It’s late,” Ingrid noted.

“Good morning to you too,” Sylvain said pointedly. “It’s not  _ that _ late.”

“Seteth wanted to have a meeting about the increase in bandit activity. If we don’t get a move on, we  _ will _ be late.” 

Caspar sat up as well. “Aw man, I wanted to train before the meeting!”

Ingrid scoot down the bed to run a hand over Caspar’s ankle. He tensed, expecting the pain from last night, but instead he giggled. The touch tickled more than anything. “I would feel better if Manuela looked you over before you trained at all,” Ingrid said. 

“Until then you should  _ definitely _ stay here,” Sylvain sat up to wrap an arm around Caspar’s shoulders. “We can be late together.” He winked at Ingrid. “Do you want to be late with us? Manuela can check him out later.”

“Uh,  _ he _ would like to get the okay to fight sooner rather than later,” Caspar interjected. 

Ingrid nodded. “Of course you would. I’ll be right back with her. Then we can all get ready.”

Sylvain heaved a sigh. “Guess I’m out voted. Can I at least get a proper good morning?” He pouted up at Ingrid.

She rolled her eyes but leaned over Caspar’s legs to kiss Sylvain. Unlike Caspar and Sylvain earlier, there was no hint of awkwardness. In fact, the awkward one was Caspar, watching them kiss like that so close to him and having no idea what his role was here. They both acted like they had done this a hundred times before— waking up, exchanging kisses, trying to drag one another either into the day or back to bed. 

As they pulled apart, Caspar felt himself blurt out, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

They turned to him. Sylvain rubbed the back of Caspar’s neck. “You’re staying here with me while Ingrid gets Manuela. Would you rather be back in your own room or—”

“I mean—” Caspar shifted away slightly. The gesture was comforting but it made it hard to concentrate. Sylvain let him go, pulling his arm back. “I mean. I…” He swallowed. “I told you once, Sylvain, that I’m no good at talking. I’m even worse at… at romance stuff.”

Ingrid sat in the middle of the bed, legs folded under her. She was close enough that she could take Caspar’s hand. But instead she watched him. “Are we making you uncomfortable?”

“N-No? Well,  _ yeah _ , but I don’t mind? This isn’t making sense.”

“Take your time.” Ingrid, for all her urging that they would be late for the meeting, said so calmly and with a soft smile. Beside him, Sylvain nodded in agreement. Caspar knew they meant it. They would wait for him. His chest felt tight. 

It took a few moments of steady breathing and temple massaging but at last Caspar began. “I have no idea how relationships work,” he declared to his knees. He would work his way up to their faces, he promised himself. “I’ve never wanted to be in one. They seem really confusing and messy and not for me. And  _ this _ ?” He waved his arms to indicate them all. “This seems even  _ more _ confusing.” 

Biting his lip, Caspar finally looked up at Sylvain and Ingrid. They didn’t speak but both had a hand palm up on the bed. An open invitation. Caspar took a hand each. “It might not sound like it but, to be honest, if I was gonna try a relationship with anyone, I’d want it to be with you two.”

Ingrid squeezed his hand. “You are okay with both of us?”

“Because, let’s be clear,” Sylvain said, “we have no idea how this is going to work either.”

“I would rather both of you,” Caspar stated, trying to sound more confident. This was immediately offset by his next sentence: “If that’s okay?  _ Please _ don’t make me pick, I’m begging you.”

Sylvain snatched up Ingrid’s other hand and held their joint hands up. “No! No choosing!” He reassured. “You’ve got us both!”

“Do  _ I _ get a say in this?” Ingrid teased. She was grinning, a slight blush across her cheeks. 

“Absolutely!” Sylvain’s grin was easy and light but there was a fierce protectiveness in his eyes. This, Caspar realized, was some combination of battlefield Sylvain and everyday Sylvain. “Ingrid, I know the situations your father puts you in. You can say no to us.” He cut his eyes to Caspar, who nodded. Caspar was aware, having found her crumpling up a letter on more than one occasion. 

Ingrid looked between the two of them. There was shine to her eyes that Caspar thought might be unshed tears. Had he read her completely wrong? Did this really bother her? Before anxiety could settle into Caspar’s stomach, Ingrid tisked, raising both their knuckles to her lips to kiss them. She sent them a watery smile. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to work out that you have feelings for both the new kid in class  _ and _ one of your childhood friends?” 

“ _ Yes _ !” Sylvain all but shouted. 

That broke the tension. Casper burst out laughing along with Ingrid. Sylvain was close behind, knocking shoulders with Caspar as he bent almost in half with mirth. Their grips on one another tightened. 

“I-I have no  _ idea _ how this is going to work!” Ingrid was able to say after a while. “But I’m excited to find out.” She looked to Caspar. “Feel better?”

Not trusting himself to speak, not sure if he had names of all the emotions inside him right now, Caspar simply nodded. 

Only then did they let each other go. Caspar’s only warning was Sylvain sending Ingrid a mischievous glance and jerking his head in Caspar’s direction. Then Caspar’s cheeks were receiving simultaneous kisses. 

With a laugh, Ingrid half bounced off the bed. “I’ll be back soon. We can get breakfast together after the meeting.” She straightened her clothes, beamed at them both, and left.

Caspar had yet to recover from the assault. Part of him wished they had delivered twin punches to his face instead. He knew how to handle punches. As it was, Caspar covered both cheeks and flopped back on the bed, sure his face on fire.

His hands were pulled back and the inside of his wrists were kissed. “Want to do some of that practicing I mentioned earlier?” Sylvain asked with another mischievous look. 

Usually when given the choice between fight or flight, Caspar chose the former. This time, for some bizarre reason, at Sylvain’s question Caspar threw himself sideways off the bed and landed half on the ground. 

Sylvain peered down at him. “Just trying to think of ways to keep you away from the training ground.” 

Caspar covered his face again. 

“We just had a whole conversation about how it’s okay to say no. Do you want me to get Ingrid and we can run through it again?”

“No,” Caspar said firmly.

“No to getting Ingrid or no to—”

“Just give me a second, alright?! This whole concept is really new.”

Sylvain propped his face in his hands and smiled down at Caspar. “Take as long as you like, my dear.”

Caspar blinked up at him. “I’m not sure I’m a nicknames kinda guy.”

Sylvain winked. “Can I just call you my boyfriend then?”

The moniker set Caspar’s face aflame again and he tried to aim a kick up at Sylvain. “Y-You’re doing this on purpose!”

“Of course I am! Do you know how cute you look right now?”

That did nothing to help Caspar’s frankly ridiculous amount of blushing. “If you want me to stay that’s  _ not _ the thing to say!” 

Maybe someday those kinds of comments wouldn’t affect him so much. But as Sylvain chuckled above him, his own cheeks dusted pink, Caspar had a feeling that day was a long time coming.

A thought came crashing into Caspar and he sat up abruptly. “So wait. I get to call you my boyfriend now, right?”

“Yes? That actually sounds really nice coming from you.”

“Shut up. And I can also call Ingrid my girlfriend?”

Sylvain arched an eyebrow. “When you said you weren’t good with relationships I didn’t think—”

“I just mean,” Caspar stood and ran his hands through his hair, “what if someone gets the wrong idea and thinks I’m two-timing you guys?! What if people get everything mixed up? Dorothea used to complain about the rumor mill here all the time and I didn’t really get what the big deal was but if people stay horrible stuff to you guys I’ll have to break a lot of jaws—”

It was Sylvain’s turn to interrupt. He got off the bed and squished Caspar’s cheeks to cut him off. “You might need more sleep, love.”

Now  _ that _ nickname sent a shock through Caspar’s system. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to melt at the affection or punch something to compensate. “Maybe,” he was able to say through his squished mouth.

Sylvain chuckled and released him. He kissed Caspar’s forehead and wound his arms around him. “So, back to bed?”

“Just until Manuela gets here.”

“Sounds good to me.”


	6. Never let me go now baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the chapter that delayed this whole operation, the chapter that I re-wrote mentally about 4 times before just sitting to start. Hope you enjoyed this fic! It was great practice with some of my favorite characters <3

The training hall being filled with grunts and yelps of pain wasn’t surprising. That it was Felix and Ferdinand doing the grunting and yelping was also not surprising. What did surprise Sylvain as he entered the training grounds was Professor Byleth watching the pair in blatant confusion.

“Hey, Professor,” he greeted, coming to a stop next to them. “Something on your mind?”

The Professor didn’t answer for a moment. They just stood there, arms crossed, brow furrowed as Ferdinand pinned Felix. “Why are they getting along so well?”

Sylvain blinked. “You’re kidding, right? I know you were hiding under a rock for five years or floating down a river or whatever but— did you really miss it?” 

“Miss  _ what _ ?”

“Miss all the sparring matches? The way they always sit next to each other at meals? The tackle-hug Ferdinand got when he made it back to Garreg Mach for the reunion?” Sylvain stepped in front of the Professor, blocking their view of the match to get their full attention. “Professor,  _ please _ don’t tell me you missed that time we all had to push Ferdinand to ask Felix to dance at the ball way back when.”

The answer was plain on their face. They bit their lip and cast their eyes around the training grounds, rocking on their heels. “I may have been. Busy.”

“Then you’re lucky. I don’t think I’ve ever had a worse case of secondhand embarrassment.”

“But,  _ why _ ?” The Professor gestured behind Sylvain, who turned in time to see Ferdinand press a quick kiss to Felix’s pouting cheek. “They don’t have any supports!”

Sylvain looked back to raise an eyebrow at their fearless leader. “Supports?”

“Uh, they don’t have anything in common!”

“They both have a liking for weapons, which I think started this.” Sylvain tried to think back. “Ferdinand is relentlessly friendly and kept trying to earn Felix’s respect. They got to be good friends after Felix recognized the effort Ferdinand was putting in. He secretly likes the attention but you didn’t hear that from me.” He shrugged. “Honestly, they had been friends way before the end of the school year. It seems natural to see them together now.”

Byleth stepsided Sylvain to get a better look at the match. Sylvain moved to stand beside them, watching Felix knock Ferdinand to the ground, both laughing at something Sylvain hadn’t heard.

“This is your fault,” the Professor said suddenly.

“My—”

“Yours and Caspar’s and Ingrid’s! Ever since you three got together, there's been friendships I never expected!”

They sounded so flustered, bordering on  _ annoyed _ , that Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh. There was a now-familiar flutter in his chest that occurred whenever someone talked about him and his partners, but at the moment he could only feel mirth as Byleth went on. “Annette and Dorothea keep meeting up to sing, Dedue always follows Marianne to the stables— don’t even get me  _ started _ on whatever made Balthus carry Ashe around on his shoulders the other day. And now  _ this _ ?!” They once again gestured to Felix and Ferdinand in apparent outrage, as if two people smiling and getting along was a grievous offence. 

Sylvain had half a mind to ask if they were about to give out detentions for friendliness. Instead, he slapped them on the back. “I’ve really only kept up with Felix’s love life, because he’s my best friend and it was painful to watch. Can’t help you with the rest of those.” 

Byleth groaned into their hands. 

“Is it really such a bad thing?” Sylvain added hesitantly. 

“Syl!” 

They both turned to see Caspar running into the training grounds, Ingrid just behind him. Caspar was grinning toothily and Ingrid looked to be holding back her own mirth behind a stern curtain. “Sylvain! Did you really deck someone for spreading rumors about me?!”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sylvain said casually, “Yeah? He kept saying you were probably a spy and since he didn’t listen to sense, I—”

He didn’t get farther than that. Caspar grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss. There had been improvement in Caspar’s kisses these past few weeks. Always a quick learner, Caspar no longer fumbled or rushed. But he still blushed quite heavily when kissing in public. Even through a proud smile, Sylvain could spot Caspar’s cheeks pink. It never failed to amuse him.

“And from the look of that guy, you hit ‘em  _ rea _ l good!” Caspar went on as if the Professor was not gawking at them. “Glad you’re using what I taught you.”

Ingrid shook her head. “I can’t say I approve of you going around hitting people. There’s enough fighting as it is. But,” she shrugged, finally letting loose her smile, “sounds like he deserved it.”

The soldier's words still grate in Sylvain’s memory; flimsy yet persistent accusations against Caspar, and a few comments on Ingrid’s character thrown in. He had definitely deserved it. “It’s not worth thinking about,” Sylvain assured them both.

Caspar cocked his head and took Sylvain’s hand. “You sure? I could go punch him too if you want.”

“Me too!” Ingrid’s eyes flickered to Byleth. “Uh, with your permission, of course, Professor.”

Being addressed made Byleth shut their mouth. “As long as you don’t kill anyone,” they said. They still wore that confused look Sylvain had caught them watching Felix and Ferdinand with.

That made Caspar’s expression turn vindictive and Sylvain squeezed his hand. “Look, it’s fine. If he does that again, go ahead. But I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Ingrid stepped forward to cup his cheek. Her mouth was in a gentle frown and her eyes were earnest, clearly giving him the opportunity to retract that declaration. How had he ended up with two people who could read him so well? Sylvain put a hand over hers. “It’s fine,” he asserted. 

She nodded, then brushed their lips together briefly before moving away again. Aiming a smirk at Caspar she said, “How about we fight next? Winner picks the first dish at dinner in town.”

“Let’s all  _ three _ of us fight!” Excitement entered Ingrid’s eyes at Caspar’s suggestion. It should be illegal for two people to look so cute when talking about violence. 

Byleth cocked their head. “How would that work fairly?”

Caspar waved the puzzlement away. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve been figuring out lots of stuff as we go. It’s actually not hard to do things as a trio. One time—”

“Actually, I don’t want to hear any more.”

Sylvain let out a bark of laughter as Caspar’s cheeks burned red and Ingrid hid her face in her hands. “N-Not like that!” Caspar insisted. “That’s not how I mean! Not that I haven’t  _ thought _ about how— I mean, I—” He turned to Ingrid. “Help?”

She took his arm, one hand still over blushing cheeks. “Let’s go get ready. Sylvain, shut up.”

“Love you too!” He called as she dragged Caspar away. Still grinning, he looked at Byleth. “So? Is it really so bad to see everyone getting along?”

Byleth hummed and stared out at the arena. Ingrid and Caspar were arguing over what weapon to spar with. Felix and Ferdinand had settled against one wall, close together, talking with easy smiles. Dimitri, calmed since the battle at Gronder Field, was listening to a barely-stuttering Bernadetta speak enthusiastically about something.

“I guess not,” the Professor said finally.

“Good. Because, with all due respect, even if you ordered me to stop seeing Ingrid and Caspar I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t envy the inheritance issue that’s going to hit you all after the war but I won’t get in your way.”

The eventuality had occurred to Sylvain but he said the same thing to the Professor that he said to himself: “One step at a time. Let’s win the war first.”

“Sylvain! Come tell Ingrid I wouldn’t fight with a  _ fucking _ lance unless your  _ lives _ depended on it!”

“If you take his side, Sylvain, I’m putting you in charge of cleaning our room for a  _ month _ !”

“Gotta go.” Sylvain gave a lazy salute and marched off towards his partners. Even as they glared at one another and Sylvain received a look of betrayal from Caspar when he picked up a lance, he knew there was happiness here. Every day brought something new for the three of them to tackle— and they did so with gusto. From figuring out sleeping arrangements and finding free hours between patrols, to patching each other up after battles and withstanding strange looks, Sylvain was willing to do it all for the sake of these two. For the sake of this happiness.

He held out a lance to Caspar. “Come on. For us?”

Caspar rolled his eyes but took it. “Fine. But just because you two, okay? I’m not fighting Ferdinand with this or anything.”

Beaming with victory, Ingrid kissed Caspar’s cheek. “Let’s go then!” She dragged them towards the center ring, already giving Caspar lance tips. Sylvain would have joined in but he was too busy grinning and wondering how all this had happened. 


End file.
